


Never Steal James Diamond's Cuda Super-Hold

by skyline



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Crack, Groping, M/M, pitchforks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyline/pseuds/skyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s armed with an I-Will-Eat-You bitchface and a pitchfork from their high school’s production of Frankenstein, where he played Villager #4. And there’s nowhere to run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Steal James Diamond's Cuda Super-Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a gifset that jblostfan16 showed me on Tumblr where James has black demon eyes, and I did I mention that this is crack?

“James, James, _James_ \- no, James hey, that’s sharp and wait, dude, don’t touch me there, that is my butt, it’s _mine_ , it’s private,” Kendall squeaks, backing the hell away from James’s roving hands. Granted, he’s being a bit of a pussy, but the clinical touch freaks him out more than any of the affectionate pats he’s received during hockey games. There is a cold, dead look in James’s eyes that does not bode good things. 

Although, honestly, the glare that James is fixing his way is also, uh…hot. Yeah, that’s exactly the word, it’s fucking hot.

His pants are way too tight for this. Kendall says, “I’m warning you, I have a spatula and I am completely prepared to use it.”

He grabs the kitchen utensil from the counter and waves in the air for show. James’s arms drop limply back to his sides, but his slow, creepy forward march continues. He’s armed with an I-Will-Eat-You bitchface and a pitchfork from their high school’s production of Frankenstein, where he played Villager #4. And there’s nowhere to run.

Icily, James demands. “Did you take my hair gel?”

He is full of dark rage and sex appeal. It is completely unfair.

“Um. Why would I do that?”

“You tell me.” James has him backed into a corner in the kitchen, counter digging into his ass, all hard and cold and totally perfect for- stop. _Stop right there_ , Kendall tells his traitorous brain.

Said traitorous brain doesn’t even think about listening. 

“James, I wouldn’t-“

“You’re _lying_.”

Kendall has to suppress a whimper, unsure if it’s because he’s turned on or terrified. “I’m not lying, nope, nah, never. Your hair gel smells like _orchids_ , and I’m not interested in smelling like a botanical garden soooo no, not lying at all.”

Of course, he totally is lying, kind of, except that he never explicitly said that he didn’t take James’s Cuda Super-Hold Gel. He just, you know, implied it.

It’s Carlos’s fault. _I dare you to steal James’s hair product_ , he said. _It’ll be fun_ , he said. Carlos is the one who is the real liar, here.

“Give it back. Give it back now,” James’s voice is flat, but authoritative. “Or I will end you.”

“What are you going to do, take me to Satan, your overlord and master?”

James lifts a shoulder like, _maybe_ , and has he blinked even once in the past five minutes? Kendall is trying really hard not to feel threatened, because he is a leader and a hockey captain and leaders who captain do not let their non-captainy counterparts intimidate them. But James is stepping in close, invading Kendall’s personal space, and oh, it’s really hard to stay brave in the face of the dark storm clouds that have gathered across the bridge of James’s nose. Kendall swallows thickly, and James discards the plastic pitchfork in favor of grabbing his wrist, stilling the hand still wielding the spatula like a sword.

Kendall doesn’t even try to fight it, paralyzed. The whole prince of evil thing is a good look on James. 

Well. Everything is a good look on James, whose free hand begins to roam again. The tube of hair gel is tucked safely in Kendall’s back pocket, squeezed between the counter and his ass, but James takes his time, feeling from the wing of Kendall’s shoulder blade and around the curve of his ribcage, tracing south towards his hipbones and his front pockets, patting each down longer than is exactly necessary.

When he finally, painstakingly works his way around to Kendall’s butt, Kendall is seconds away from either punching James or kissing him breathless.

He doesn’t get to do either,because James extracts the tube of gel, the scary line of his mouth curving upwards into a smile. It’s a good thing (probably), because friendship. Yay, friendship!

Oddly enough, Kendall’s dick isn’t too pleased about the whole friendship thing.

Demeanor abruptly sunny, James tells the bottle, “I’ve missed you _so_ much.”

“James. It’s hair gel.”

“It is _life_. Life, Kendall.” James’s eyes narrow. “Touch my stuff again, and bad things will happen.”

His irises darken a hint, and yum. Kendall has to stop himself from drooling. “What kind of bad things?”

“Very, very bad things.” James rubs his thumb against Kendall’s wrist, the spatula still braced for impact. “I know how to use that pitchfork.”

“Duly noted.” Kendall chokes out, and he can only really breathe again once James is out of his airspace, cooing at his bottle of Cuda Super-Hold.

He doesn’t even notice when Kendall sneaks away to the bathroom, where he absconds with his Cuda Root and Body Lift Styling Mousse.

Kendall’s just really interested in seeing what James can do with a pitchfork, is all.


End file.
